C21 He Said He Was Going to Forget Her

I was curled up in the alley, my face wet. The rain must have soaked my face, but it didn't stop.

Drip by drop into the palm of my hand, burning me painfully.

Blood dripped from the torn hand as it jeered at me, and the pain grew more and more unbearable. I stretched out my hand and let the rain from the eaves trickle down the wound, slowly chewing the tingling taste